


petrichor

by sophos (ians_carer)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Power Play, Rimming, ignis has weird sexual hang ups and prom gets caught up in it, this is like kinda weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:52:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ians_carer/pseuds/sophos
Summary: ignis will take what measure of control he's able to wherever he can get it. WoR promnis but without a whole lot of feelings. This is a weird one.





	petrichor

There is very little he supposes he can consider conventional about his relationship with Prompto these days. Two men at the end of the world struggling to stave off a bit of loneliness. Outside of their more questionable activities, things between them have remained nearly the same, if more subdued. Although, they both know, nearly everything is more subdued. 

And while, once told, some might insist that they knew what was happening between the gunslinger and the Hand of the Lost King, Ignis knows better. There is no reason to suspect anything untoward happens behind closed doors, and so no one does. Anyway, he knows even if someone did find out, they’d likely be disturbed. They’d see Ignis for what he is -- afraid. 

While Prompto finds solace in another’s hand, another taking care of him, carefully plucking the strings of his desire until he falls to jelly beneath their hands, Ignis gets something quite different out of it. The control he has over Prompto in these moments is something he lives for these days. To take from him that which he cannot take anywhere else -- it relaxes and soothes him in a way he cannot describe. 

The first rule of their game is that when Ignis arrives, Prompto is already undressed and waiting. Ready for those gloves to slip off his hands as he enters the room and touches that which is exposed to him, memorizes the heat of Prompto’s skin. Orders him to turn over, to refrain from touching himself as Ignis squeezes at his hips, arse, and a quick, unexpected slap at the skin of his thigh. He hardly moves with the motion, but a telling breath through his lips is enough for Ignis.

The second rule, is that Prompto makes no attempt to aid Ignis’ own pleasure. He has long since become accustomed to this arrangement, in which Ignis keeps his own clothes perfectly intact the entire time, and never once reaches for his own cock. Instead he takes a handful of the flesh Prompto presents to him, kneels down to bite at it, to pull his cheeks apart with two thumbs and lick languidly at that tight ring of muscle, still stretched from yesterday, in which Ignis sucked long and hard at his cock while fucking him with a toy. 

Prompto rolls his hips under the way Ignis licks and sucks and rolls his tongue around his entrance, and perhaps on another day he might have received another sharp slap for his troubles, and a firm command to stay still, but Ignis revels in bringing pleasure. His own length throbs against his belt buckle as Prompto moans and sighs below him, spurred on merely by the knowledge that here -- he holds each and every card. There is no uncertainty here, no shame, or weakness in the way Ignis pulls him apart. Here, he is perfectly in control as Prompto falls to pieces below him. Whines and presses back against his face as Ignis lowers his attentions to draw his balls into his mouth and suckle at them for a short moment. Ignis works him for as long as he pleases, drunk on the sounds and movements the other man makes.

 **“Do you want to come?”**  He asks, as he always does, when he can feel Prompto starting to tremble and shake with the strength of holding it back. Prompto knows that this is finally his moment of permission, and gasps as he replies with a pleading  **“Yes!”**  His fingers are heard curling into the sheets, his thighs tensing like a springboard, anticipating the next words he knows he’ll hear out of Ignis’ mouth. Prepared to follow his careful order of operations to reach his own completion. 

 **“Stand up.”** And Prompto rolls over as Ignis slips to his knees on the floor, the new angle pressing against his cock uncomfortably in his trousers -- but that is of no matter. Long fingers trail up the pale skin of Prompto’s thighs as the thick sound of his own hand tugging at his cock begins to fill the silence around them. Ignis’ hands squeeze once more at the globes of his ass, betraying his need to be reminded of Prompto’s vulnerability here. He is the one who is exposed, trembling, his mind preoccupied with base desire, not Ignis. 

Prompto makes a choked sound as he comes, his toenails scratching against the floor as he curls in on himself, and Ignis braces himself for the hot feeling of come on his face, over his nose and cheek and lips, even a bit on his chin and the side of his throat. It’s quick, Prompto hardly taking a moment to catch his breath before he’s reaching for his clothes, and not another word is said between them as Ignis gets up off his knees, reaching for a tissue as he hears the door slam closed.

When next they meet, it is on their way to meet with Cor and Monica, and the conversation flows freely, news of Iris’ shop coming from Ignis, and news of the reclamation for Hammerhead from Prompto as they walk together down the street.


End file.
